Tipping the Balance
by Lavender and Hay
Summary: Tipsy Baxley at the Servants' Ball.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm essentially answering my own prompt (drunk Baxley).**

She couldn't remember laughing this much for a very very long time. It wasn't so much the drink, she hadn't even had that much anyway, not to her recollection. No it wasn't the drink, it was… the extraordinary dancing. She smiled again, and broke into a laugh just thinking about it, as she lead him along the servants' corridor towards the back door.

She was holding on to his hand and pulling him along with her.

"Steady on," Joseph told her as they reached the end of the corridor.

She gave him a moment's breather while she opened the door, but then she took hold of his hand again pulling him out into the cool air of the night.

"I thought some air would be good for us," she told him.

He looked back at her, utterly non-plussed and she snorted with laughter again.

"I think we're drunk," she explained to him when she'd composed herself enough to speak.

A smile of understanding spread across his face and he laughed as well.

"Yes, I think we probably are," he replied.

"When you were dancing," she told him, "You were flinging me about quite a lot."

"Oh," he was suddenly very serious, "I'm very sorry."

"No," she told him, touching his arm gently, reassuring him, "It was nice. It was very… unusual. Well, anyway, I liked it so you don't have to be sorry."

She smiled at him and he smiled back.

"Does the servants' ball always get this lively?" she asked him, and then, a moment later, considering the likely reality for a moment, "Or were we just a lot livelier than the rest of the room?"

His smile widened to a grin.

"Probably," he conceded, "This is the most I've ever enjoyed the servants' ball, anyway. I had a lot of fun dancing with you."

"I'm glad," she replied, "Oh god," she murmured, clasping her hand to her mouth at the thought, "We probably looked a bit like Miss Denker did that time when she came home singing."

She buried her face against the front of his shirt, half embarrassed, half just laughing at the thought of it.

He smiled too.

"Do you mind, though?" he asked her.

"No," she replied, looking up at him, quite serious for a moment, "I know I probably ought to, with her Ladyship having been there and everything, but I don't. I had a really good time with you and I don't think that's something I should have to be sorry for."

"No," he agreed, "You're absolutely right."

But she was laughing again suddenly, holding on to the front of his shirt with gentle fists.

"Do you remember when Miss Denker came back that night?" she asked him, "She embraced me. And spun me around. And sang."

"Like this?" he asked her, holding her in his arms for a moment and twirling her dramatically.

She shriek a little, and then laughed.

"Yes, like that," she replied, "But you didn't sing."

"I decided that would be improprietous in this setting," he told her very sternly.

She snorted with laughter, allowing her hands to fall into his again.

"Let's dance again," she told him.

"Here?"

"Yes, here."

Somehow, though, maybe it was because they were tired by now, in the less confined setting their dancing was more contained than before. They were dancing closer together and he was humming a slower tune under his breath than anything that had been played that night.

"It's nicer out here," he remarked, "It helps helps you keep cooler?"

She looked up at him, one of her eyebrows raised.

"Does it?"

He looked back at her, and swallowed.

"No."

It was no surprise to either of them when their dance became slower and even closer. Or when their lips brushed gently against one another's.

They looked at each other for a brief moment. She smiled warmly before settling her head against his chest. He pressed a single kiss into her hair, his hand holding the middle of her back now. They continued dancing.

**Please review if you have the time. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok, so if you would prefer to preserve the innocent frivolity of the previous chapter, don't read this. However, if you're deeply wicked like me, read on. (I was actually prompted to do this, no lies)**

They kept on dancing in the darkness. She knew there was a stupid, stupid smile on her lips but she could not seem to care. There wasn't much light and a shadow fell across his face; she could not see his eyes, but she could see his lips, and he was smiling too. She felt-… sobered somehow, compared to before, but she was still elated, still astonished that he had kissed her.

"I've been wanting you to do that for ever so long, Mr Molesley," she told him softly.

"Have you?" he asked her in surprise.

"Why didn't you ask?" he wondered when she nodded in reply.

"I was worried I might frighten you off," she confided. Evidently, she was still drunk enough to answer honestly.

He smiled broadly, feigning bravado.

"Do I strike you as the kind of man who is easily frightened off?" he asked her.

She tilted her head a little, smiling up at him. He frowned just a touch.

"Well, at any rate," he told her, "I'm not frightened of you. I'm very happy with you; now, here like this. I've wanted-… to be with you like this for a long time."

Maybe they were both still drunk, but bravery like this, such open and honest bravery, was rare.

"What else have you wanted?" she asked him softly.

He was quiet. One of his hands held one of hers, clasped between both their bodies, keeping their chests from touching. Their other arms, though, wrapped tightly around one another's waists, and their hips touched gently together on odd steps, though they were barely moving by now. When contact was made, it was long, it was held.

He did not answer her.

"Joseph," she asked him softly, "Do you love me?"

He nodded slowly.

"Good," she kissed him soundly, firmly, sweetly, "Because I love you too. And you can tell me, you know, what else you've thought about and what else you've wanted. If you want to, of course."

"Can we go somewhere else?" he asked her, "I feel very-… exposed here."

"Of course we can," she assured him, "Wherever you want."

Quickly, he tugged her across the yard, away from the light of the back door and towards the woodshed. He had been right, it wasn't as exposed here and it was a little warmer, but also darker. But she liked that too; rather than a shadow covering half his face, his eyes shone in the dark, and she could smell the wood from the shed.

Carefully, though quickly too, he pressed her back against the wall, kissing her lips, cupping her face in his hands. She gasped in surprise, opening her mouth under his lips, allowing him to deepen their kiss.

"I love you, Phyllis," he murmured against her lips, "I love you and I-…"

She looked up at him, holding onto his hand.

"Do you want me?" she asked him softly.

He nodded fervently, his eyes fixed on her face. She was overwhelmed at the courage it was obviously taking him to make these admissions.

She wrapped her arm around his neck, pulling herself closer to him and cradling him to her chest.

"Know that you're the only man I'd ever do this for," she told him softly, then, realising that though she felt it and meant it she maybe couldn't quite make that statement in complete honesty, "Well, like this anyway."

At any rate, she saw him smile.

"I do know," he told her quietly.

"Good," she replied, before latching her lips back on to his.

They embraced one another, their hands caressing each other's bodies. His leg shifted in between hers and she parted them further for him, giving a quiet groan. The night around them felt so silent and they tried not make too much noise.

He seemed to hold back for a little, and she could hardly say that she was entirely surprised; she wasn't sure that he'd even made love before, and now here they were, outside, against the back wall of the abbey, but then he touched her breast and she decided that if this was his first time he was certainly making the best of it. She smiled against his mouth, caressing his chest, slowing stroking downwards to unbutton his trousers.

She knew he was strong, she tried not to giggle out loud as she remembered his performance at the summer fair, and it was no surprise to her that he was able to lift her up. He leant his hand on the wall behind her head, giving her something soft to rest on and supporting her weight with his as he pushed inside her. She groaned softly.

"Are you alright?" he asked her.

"Yes," she murmured, "Oh yes."

If his hand had not been on the wall she would have doubtlessly hit her head off the stone a moment later when it rolled back in pleasure as she moved.

"Oh darling, Joseph-…" she pulled his lips to hers and kissed him, knowing she had to silence herself somehow.

They finished within moments of each other. Breathlessly, he set her down, not wanting to hurt her, but as soon as they had tidied themselves a little, she pulled him back to herself, wrapping her arms around him.

"That was-…"

"The last thing you expected to happen?" he stuttered out between his own uneven breaths.

"Well, yes," she replied, laughing a little, "But I was also going to say that was wonderful."

Again, he kissed her hair.

"I'm glad," he told her, "I love you."

**Please review if you have the time. **


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